by A. L. Sadler
GIRL: What do you mean? How dare you bother me? I’ll set my halberdier on to you!
DONTARO: Namsambo!* Both of them have got a man, have they? Women are a good-for-nothing lot! I think I will go off to Mount Koya and shave my head and retire from the world to seek enlightenment.
WIFE: Last night Dontaro came back and knocked at my door to be let in, but I wasn’t sure, so I gave him a good scolding and he said he would go off to a girl he had in the lower town, and I suppose that’s where he is. I’ll go after him. Ah, here we are. Within there!
GIRL: Who’s there?
WIFE: I’m the wife of Dontaro Dono. Last night he came to my house and wanted me to open the door, but I wasn’t sure of him and gave him a scolding. I suppose he has come here. Please let me see him.
GIRL: Oh, you are the lady from the upper town? Yes, he came here last night too, but I also scolded him and sent him off.
WIFE: Is it indeed so? I heard by the way that he had shaved his head and was going to Mount Koya, so let us both go together and stop him.
GIRL: Yes, certainly.
WIFE: The two of us together will be able to stop him whether he will or no.
GIRL: So; let us wait here.
DONTARO (in priest’s robes and tapping a gong): Ah, that I should have come to this! Well, well, Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Ami-ida Butsu! Na-a-mu Amida Butsu!
GIRL: Now then, stop him!
WIFE: All right. I say, Dontaro Dono, what is all this about? Please come back again.
DONTARO: No thanks. You’ve got your quarterstaff champion there, and that’s a bit too much for me. Namu Ami-i-da Butsu! Namu Ami-i-da Butsu! Chi-rin, Chi-rin.
(Rings bell.)
GIRL: Oh, but you really must come back.
DONTARO: It is very improper for young girls to approach recluses.
WIFE: I earnestly beg you to come back.
DONTARO: Halberdiers are the most terrible fellows in the world to come across. Namu Ami-i-da!
WIFE: Let us both try to stop him together.
GIRL: As we have both agreed to come and meet you thus, please forbear and come back again.
WIFE: Yes, do. We both beg you together. Please come back, and we will do anything you like to make you happy.
DONTARO: In that case suppose we agree that I spend the first half of the month in the lower town, and the second half in the upper.
WIFE: But there should be a little distinction made between us. Please spend the first half of the month with me.
GIRL: Yes, let it be so then.
WIFE: Very well.
DONTARO: I won’t go back like this. You must make a sedan-chair for me, and I will return in style with a band playing.
BOTH WOMEN: Band? What do you mean?
DONTARO: When I exclaim, “Whose carrying-chair is this?” you must both chant together, “This is Dontaro Dono’s carrying-chair.”
BOTH WOMEN: Very well.
(They link their hands and make a chair for him. He struts round with a satiric smile, tapping the gong and singing.)
DONTARO: Whose carrying-chair is this?
BOTH WOMEN (chant together): This is Dontaro Dono’s carrying-chair.
(He sits on their hands and is carried away, continuing to tap with his mallet on their heads).
Footnote
* By the three sacred things.
THE LIQUOR-PIPE
MASTER: I am a man of these parts, and today I must go out on business, but as soon as my back is turned these two idle knaves of mine start drinking and dancing and making an uproar, and it is not safe to leave them. So I have devised a plan after some reflection, and I will now summon them and give them their orders. Ho! Is Taro Kwaja there?
TARO: At your service, sir.
MASTER: How prompt you are! All I have to tell you is that I have to go out today, so see that you look after everything properly in my absence.
TARO: Indeed I will. Master need have no anxiety about anything at all.
MASTER: Aye, well. But for certain reasons that I have I wish you to stay in this room while I am away.
TARO: As you bid me, sir.
MASTER: And tell Jiro Kwaja to come here too. I have something to say to him.
TARO: I will, sir. Hi! Hi! Jiro Kwaja!
JIRO: What now? Am I called?
TARO: Yes; come at once!
JIRO: At your service, sir.
MASTER: Today I am going out, so I want you to look well after everything at home.
JIRO: Indeed I will. We both will see that everything is safe.
MASTER: No, no! Today—I have my reasons for it—I want you to stay in that inner room alone, and there keep watch.
JIRO: I don’t quite understand. Were it not better if we both looked after things together?
MASTER: No, no! That won’t do at all. Taro Kwaja will stay in the next room, and you in the inner one. So do your duty.
JIRO: Certainly, sir.
MASTER: Now then, I’ll see you in your rooms before I go.
BOTH: We are just going, sir.
MASTER: Well, be off with you!
BOTH: Yes, sir.
MASTER: And see that you are vigilant. I shall be back soon.
BOTH: We shall look forward to your return.
MASTER: Now that’s all settled, so I’ll be off.
TARO: This is a bit too much. I never heard of such a thing. I can guess what he is after. He is afraid to leave us together when he is out, for fear we shall begin drinking and making merry. That’s why he has separated us. What a fix!
JIRO: Dear me, I feel very lonely. Whenever master has gone out before he has always left us together. Whatever has he done this for? I wonder what Taro is doing.
TARO: I wonder what Jiro Kwaja is up to. Hi! Jiro! Jiro! Are you there?
JIRO: Is that you, Taro? How lonely it is here.
TARO: It is indeed. I thought we would have a drink together today if he went out, so I have got some “sake” here.
JIRO: How nice! I suppose you’ve already started on it.
TARO: No, I haven’t. I don’t care to drink alone. I should like you to have some too.
JIRO: That’s too kind of you. Can’t you think of some way for me to get it?
TARO: If you could make a hole in this wall I could pass you some over. Ah, that’s lucky! There’s a hole here. I suppose the rats have made it. Now you can drink. Use this bamboo as a pipe, and I’ll pour the liquor through it.
JIRO: That’s got it. Look here! You drink, and then pour some through to me.
TARO: Good! Here goes. Now here’s some for you. There, got it?
JIRO: Ah! Here it comes. I’ve got it. Splendid. That’s enough! Down it goes. Ah, it tastes particularly good this way. Shall I pass you this “sake” cup?
TARO: No, that’s all right. Here comes some more. Ready?
JIRO: Well, I don’t mind. Ha! Here it comes!
TARO: How it is? Is it good?
JIRO: Beyond expression. I’ve never drunk better. It takes my breath away. Ah, that’s enough. Let’s have a song, shall we?
TARO: All right; come on.
BOTH: “Za-an Za! The sighing of the pines along the shore! Zaan Za!”
JIRO: Let me send you some. Here’s to you! (Drinks.) Now then!
TARO: Thanks. I’ll take a cup with you. Ah! Now for another song!
BOTH: “With their trusty friends carousing; soldiers are a jovial crowd!”
TARO: Hurrah! Splendid! Now have another!
JIRO: No! No! Let me give you one more.
TARO: No, I have too much already.
JIRO: Oh, but you must.
TARO: Very well then. Now I have it. One more song.
BOTH:
“When the cherry doth bloom in the spring,
Kiyomizu is the place for me!
In spring-time, in spring-time, when all the flowers do bloom!”
JIRO: Ah, glorious liquor! I drink to you.
TARO: And I to you. Have some more!
JIRO: Thanks. I prithee pour.
TARO: Here you are then.
JIRO: Ho! What a bumper. It’s running over! And so am I!
TARO: Oh, drink it up! I think that’s all there is.
JIRO: Oh, well, in that case. So, down it goes. How glorious I feel! I’m tipsy! I’m tipsy! Now I’ll send it back to you. Ready?
TARO: What? Don’t you want any more then?
JIRO: What d’you mean? We’ll have one more for the very last.
TARO: All right then. For the very last. There’s just one left. This’ll be quite enough. In fact, just a little too much. Ah! How good. I’m a bit tipsy. Jiro Kwaja, here’s to you!
JIRO: Here’s luck!
TARO: Yes, I’m a bit tipsy. I think I’ll have a nap.
JIRO: What’s that? Nap? Weren’t you told to keep watch over the house? What do you mean by it? Hi! Taro! Are you asleep already? (No answer.) I don’t call that proper. Well, if Taro Kwaja is taking a nap, I feel sleepy too. I can’t hold out any longer. Here goes.
MASTER: Taro Kwaja! Jiro Kwaja! I’ve come back. As I put them in separate rooms this time, they won’t have been able to drink as before, and so have looked after everything properly, no doubt. Why, what’s this? Here’s a hole in the wall! And what’s this going through it? Why! Why! What a pair of devils! They’ve stuck a pipe through and been drinking that way! Taro! Jiro! Where have you got to? Why, here’s one sprawling on the floor. And there’s that rogue Taro lying there dead drunk. What’s to be done with them? Get up, you devils, get up!
JIRO: No, no; I don’t think I’ll have any more.
MASTER: Don’t think you’ll have any more! I think that’s for me to say.
JIRO: Ah, yes; you told us to keep watch. Pray excuse us.
MASTER: What next? What do you mean by lying there like that, you drunken sots! Get up, will you!
TARO: Ah, I’m tipsy! Let’s have another song. “Zan- za-aa—”
MASTER: Ya-aa, you worthless knave! Zan-za-a! What next? I’ll give you something.
TARO: Pray excuse us. Sir, pray let us off. Ah, I’m so sorry. I’ll never drink any more.
MASTER: You’ll never drink any more? Is that likely? I won’t let you off!
TARO: Oh, yes, do!
THE GARGOYLE
DAIMYO: I am a well-known personage. I have been a long while in the capital and have won my lawsuit, and now I am going back again to my province. Ho! Is my page there?
PAGE: At your service, my lord.
DAIMYO: I have been here a long time and have won my suit, so I am now going home again, but I have great faith in the deity of the Inaba Temple, for I think he has greatly favored me, so I propose to pay him a visit before I return. Do you come with me?
PAGE: Certainly, my lord.
DAIMYO: When I reach my province again I intend to build an Inaba Temple there too.
PAGE: That would be very nice, my lord.
DAIMYO: Well, here we are. Now let us pray.
PAGE: Certainly, my lord.
DAIMYO: Yes, I will build one just like this in my province, so look carefully at it.
PAGE: I will, my lord.
DAIMYO: They say it was built by Hida-no-Takumi, and indeed it is a very beautiful shrine.
PAGE: It is indeed a very fine shape.
DAIMYO: But what is that thing up there in the angle of the roof?
PAGE: That is what is called a gargoyle, my lord. It is a very fine one. But why does my lord weep?
DAIMYO: That gargoyle is exactly like my wife’s face. That’s why I weep.
PAGE: When I come to think of it it is indeed very like the mistress.
DAIMYO: Those saucer-eyes are just like hers.
PAGE: And the mouth and those great bumps on the head. The mistress’s are just as big as that.
DAIMYO: Someone must have carried her off and stuck her up there!
PAGE: It is really very strange, my lord.
DAIMYO: Then we shall have a very merry journey back! How splendid! There’s nothing to cry about now. I shall laugh all the way home!
PAGE: It is indeed a very blessed thing. How jolly we shall be!
DAIMYO: Now then, laugh! Laugh, I tell you!
TSU-EN
PRIEST: Alas! Alas! Without a little money for tea how hard is the journey! I am a man of the Bando district, and since I have never yet set eyes on Uji I have now made up my mind to go thither. “Though we abandon ourselves like chestnut shells swept away on a flood, yet we may somehow find safety.” And I, too, giving myself up for lost and drifting along, have thus managed to arrive at the bridge-pillars of Uji, and so without more delay I will hasten to the village. But, what is this I see? At this tea-house they are making offerings of tea. Surely about this there must be some tale, so I think I will inquire of the people of the place. Is there anyone here who can explain?
COUNTRYMAN: And what is it that you may wish to know?
PRIEST: I am a man of the Bando district, and it is the first time I have ever been here. I see here that they offer tea at this tea-house, and no doubt there is some story concerning it, so I pray you tell me what it may be.
COUNTRYMAN: Ah, yes! You see there was once a tea-master named Tsu-en, who was so devoted to his art that he died while making tea, and the people of the place took compassion on him, and so on the anniversary of his death they make offerings of tea and say prayers for his soul. I trust that you also will not disdain to say a prayer for him in passing by.
PRIEST: Ah, I understand. I thank you for your explanation. I will go on and, as I pass, I will pray for him too.
COUNTRYMAN: And if there is anything of which I can inform you, I pray you tell me.
PRIEST: I will. Ah, here is the tea-house that he spoke of. Spreading this tattered garment on the old matting of the floor, I will await a meeting in my dreams.
GHOST: Calmly the tea-guests take their seats while I prepare their tea. Drawing the water from the Ujikawa–how good is the edible seaweed! –the tea-makers draw the pathetic evanescent hot water–spite the heat of the handle of the kettle–ah, how lovely is the boiling hot water!
PRIEST: What strange thing is this? What figure is this that appears dimly before my dozing eyes, garbed like a priest and with a dipper in his girdle?
GHOST: I am Tsu-en, that tea-master who in this place of old died of making tea!
PRIEST: And are you indeed the shade of that Tsu-en? I pray that you will tell me how you came to die, and I, on my part, will pray for your soul.
GHOST: Then I will tell you, and I beg your prayers. When the service for the spirits of the dead at the bridge of Uji was but half finished, a band of pilgrims, some three hundred of them, came along all unannounced to drink up all my tea. With their mouths opened wide, in they rushed, a mighty multitude, and I seized the ladle to make a great brew, stuffing in all sorts of rubbish that would neither float nor sink. And I gave orders to my underlings that they should remember that there is sandy ground where the waves roll back, that the weaker should take the ladles and the stronger should carry the water, and that those likely to be washed away should take the tea-whisks, and all together should put forth all their strength. Thus at the command of one man, though the field of operations was such a wide one, like a desperate band determined to hold out to the last with leveled weapons, they stood their ground and fiercely plied the tea-pot.
Then with a roar confused came on the thirsty host,
All else forgotten, only wild to drink,
In their mad haste smashing the bowls and pots—Then did Tsu-en, giving all up for lost, to the last mindful of his famous name, taking his seat upon the sand hard by the Byodo-in,* spread out his fan, and, stripping off his robe, made his last verse before he slew himself:
As the fire whelmed in ashes burns not up,
When there is no hot water we can make no tea. Pray for me, O priest! Trifling as it may seem, this meeting here must have been pre-ordained from a former life!
(And thus making an end, he grad
ually fades away and vanishes under the shade of the grasses of the drifting sand.)
Footnote
* The temple where Minamoto Yorimasa committed suicide.
THE BUDDHA-MAKER
COUNTRYMAN: I am a man from a distant province, and as Buddhism is very popular there, we have built a gilded shrine six feet square; but we have not yet got any image to put in it, so I have come up to the capital to buy one. Well, here I am, but I don’t know any Buddha-maker in this place, so I will call out for one. Ho! I would buy a Buddha! Who has Buddhas to sell?
BUDDHA-MAKER: You see before you a dishonest sort of fellow who finds it difficult to make a living under the present circumstances. So I must pretend to be something or other, and perhaps I may come across someone who will enable me to better my luck. Hullo! There is a countryman calling out that he wants to buy a Buddha. I must have speech with him. I say, you there, what are you shouting about?
COUNTRYMAN: Oh, I am a man from the country. I have come up to buy a Buddha, but I don’t know any Buddha shop, so that’s why I am crying out.
BUDDHA-MAKER: Then you’re in luck.
COUNTRYMAN: Oh, how so?
BUDDHA-MAKER: Why you’re lucky in meeting me, and luck isn’t a thing that you can always find sticking to your elbow either.
COUNTRYMAN: How do you mean?
BUDDHA-MAKER: Because I happen to be a Buddha-maker.
COUNTRYMAN: Ah, that is fortunate. And may I ask what school you belong to?
BUDDHA-MAKER: As you know, there are the schools of Unkei, Tankei, and Annami, and it is to the school of Annami that I belong.
COUNTRYMAN: Ah, I have heard of it. And have you any Buddhas ready made?
BUDDHA-MAKER: No, but I can make anything you like to order.
COUNTRYMAN: Ah, that’s very convenient. Now what kind of Buddha would be best?
BUDDHA-MAKER: Well, what kind of a shrine is it that you have?
COUNTRYMAN: It is six feet square.
BUDDHA-MAKER: Then a standing one would be best, wouldn’t it?
COUNTRYMAN: Yes, perhaps it would.
BUDDHA-MAKER: Then what kind of figure shall I make for you?